


Life in Technicolor

by combat_jorts



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Metaverse (Persona 5), Existential Crisis, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Meet-Cute, Single parent Goro, adult au, art teacher Yusuke, mentions of past trauma, non-sexual nudity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:02:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28960659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/combat_jorts/pseuds/combat_jorts
Summary: Goro Akechi, formerly Tokyo’s TV sweetheart, is now 35 with a seemingly dead-end job and an eight year old daughter he loves more than life itself. He doesn’t expect to find more romance than his monthly romcom and pint of ice cream-- until he makes an exceedingly bad first impression on eccentric art teacher (and famous artist) Yusuke Kitagawa.Or; Goro learns to love and be loved in a world that gave him nothing.————For GoroBigBang2020!
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kitagawa Yusuke
Comments: 11
Kudos: 35
Collections: Goro Big Bang 2020





	Life in Technicolor

**Author's Note:**

> hello again!! This fic is only one half of the final product, so stay tuned for the second and final chapter!! 
> 
> This fic will also include beautiful art from LatteAtNight!! A link to their Twitter will be included in the end notes!! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!! ;w;

“I  _ told  _ Takahashi to have that done on  _ Tuesday.  _ Why would it fall on my shoulders?” Goro snapped into the phone held precariously between his cheek and his shoulder, tugging on his socks with more force than necessary.

“ _ Don’t ask me,”  _ came his coworker’s tinny voice from the speaker _ , “I just work here. I don’t really understand it either, but I’d place money on it being tied to that little confrontation you had with Boss last week.” _

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Goro asked, part amused and mostly irritated. He half-hopped to his bathroom as he fixed his sock beneath the leg of his pants, using his free hand to paw around the counter for his hair tie. Goro didn’t need to check a clock to know he’d be late for work— having a brainless conversation on the phone whilst struggling to get ready in record time certainly wasn’t helping anything, either. Holding the elastic between his teeth, he began to gather his hair into what might be considered a rat’s nest of a ponytail on a good day. “No one else was going to stand up to his bullshit. Those kids were going to suffer in that home and he knew it.” His words were muffled and garbled between clenched teeth as he held the elastic between them, pulling it away to fasten his hair up. “This is our  _ job _ . If I hadn’t said anything, they’d still be—“

“Daddy! I can’t find my planner!”

Goro pulled the phone away from his mouth so as to not deafen his coworker while he answered his daughter. “Check the kitchen counter, sweetheart,” he called down the hall, hoping she didn’t actually lose her planner and the search wouldn’t turn into an all-morning affair. It most likely would, considering his luck thus far. He’d only been awoken by her barging into his room nearly thirty minutes after his traitorous alarm was supposed to go off. After that, he’d found that the shirt he’d planned to wear had a coffee stain that had apparently been dried into the fabric, and then he’d had to iron his woefully wrinkled pants. Truly, Goro Akechi was having a wonderful Monday. He just  _ loved  _ Mondays.

“I can’t find it!” his daughter called back as soon as he’d begun to fasten his tie around his neck. He loved her dearly, but he couldn’t help but hiss out a heavy sigh, tightening the knot and letting his hands fall down at his sides. 

“It’s  _ got  _ to be there, Kimiko,” he replied, exasperated.

“ _ You sound busy.”  _ His coworker’s voice was amused on the other line, which would have been irritating had they not actually been his friend. “ _ We can talk more when you get here.  _ If  _ you get here. Did I hear something about a lost planner?” _

“Bye, Shimizu-kun,” was all the warning he gave before hanging up and shoving his phone in his pocket. Grabbing his shoes, he sped down the hallway with long strides to aid in the Great Planner Search before the both of them ended up late to their daily commitments. Goro had enough trouble trying to pick her up on time, and he certainly didn’t need to start a late streak as well. “I signed it on Saturday after school, right beside the sink. Is it not there?”

“No,” his daughter replied shortly, scrunching up her nose and crossing her arms as her bottom lip jutted out in a frustrated pout. Her hair was a rather impressive dark cloud of bed head that he would no doubt have to fix at the very last minute. “I don’t know where it is! It always gets checked today and it’s a grade!”

“Have you checked your backpack?”

“Yes!” 

She was eight now— when he’d adopted her at six years old, she was feisty but otherwise sweet— the sass was a recent development. Goro frowned, fixing her with a stern look as she raised her voice. “I know you’re frustrated, but watch the attitude. You get that from me.” That brought the tiniest twitch of a smile to her lips, though she seemed bound and determined to be mad. It was moments like these that she reminded Goro of himself. “Let’s look for it together, alright? We have time.” They really didn’t, but telling her so would only distress her further. “You look in your room and I’ll look in the living room. We’ll find it.”

“Okay,” Kimiko acquiesced, turning on her heel to skip down the hallway toward her room. As Goro slipped into his shoes and turned his attention toward the kitchen counter, it took him about ten seconds to find the planner exactly where he’d told her to look. Given, it  _ had  _ gotten pushed behind a stray bowl they’d used to make cookies for Kimiko’s class the previous night, but it was there nonetheless.

“Found it!” he called, listening as her thumping footsteps came close until she all but skidded into the kitchen with a bright grin.

“You’re the best, daddy!” She squealed, throwing her arms around his middle. All traces of that previous bad mood were magically gone— the beauty of an eight year old’s unstable emotional regulation. “Where was it? Oh! Can you do my hair? Pretty please?”

He gave her a quick squeeze, bending down to press a kiss to the top of her head. “It was exactly where I told you to look. You have to  _ look  _ next time, sweetheart. What would you like me to do with your hair?”

Kimiko pouted for a moment before perking up at the mention of her hair. “Braids, please!”

“Oh,” Goro replied with a strained smile. “Braids. Multiple braids?”

“We have time,” Kimiko reminded him, her brown eyes big and wide in the way she knew was adorable. “You said so.”

Goro had never been able to say no to her— he was weak that way. And so that was why Goro was tearing into the parking lot of the elementary school ten minutes later, leaping out of the car and all but jogging with Kimiko hand in hand to the front doors of the school. Her braids were nothing short of perfect, to the detriment of Goro’s arrival to work on time. They wouldn’t fire him, that he was sure of— they needed him too badly. Goro fixed her uniform and kissed her forehead as he always did, then tried not to look like an actual lunatic as he sprinted back to his car in shoes not made for sprinting. Goro hadn’t run like that in fifteen years and it was painfully obvious in more ways than one. 

Of course, Goro didn’t make it to work on time, and surely they’d attempt to keep him late as a result. He was  _ not  _ going to allow his daughter to wait alone after school, so he would simply leave at normal time despite what they’d tell him. Would he get chewed out? Most likely. Did he give a shit? Not a single one. So Goro did his work as quickly as possible, taking the pile of case files Takahashi never finished and dumping them unceremoniously on the other man’s desk as a little gift for him to come back to after lunch. Goro had enough case files to go through on his own that he was  _ actually _ assigned to, and he didn’t get paid nearly enough to do someone else’s shit when they slacked off. So, he watched the clock as he completed his work, timing it perfectly (he  _ loathed  _ that he’d become  _ good  _ at completing office work) so that he would have exactly fifteen minutes to spare after leaving his office and driving to Kimiko’s school. 

He let out a sigh of relief as he closed the final folder and placed it upon his finished stack to be delivered to the court system. It wasn’t as if Goro  _ hated  _ his job— no, he studied social work and psychology because he truly enjoyed it. He was passionate about protecting the rights of women and children so as to prevent situations like his own childhood from repeating— he wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy. Of course, Goro wasn’t so naive to think that he’d be able to  _ completely  _ prevent such an unfortunate chain of events from happening to anyone ever again, but he could at least make a difference in the lives of a few families each day. That's what he told himself, at least. He rarely got to observe the fruits of his labor.

As he swung his satchel over his shoulder, an arm blocked his path and a broad hand slammed down on his desk with a loud  _ thump _ . His boss was a hulking brute of a man with arms like tree trunks and a chest like a barrel. It was rather comical, however, as he was a good few inches shorter than Goro himself. 

“Where do you think you’re going, Akechi?” His voice was gruff as well, with the hint of a rural accent Goro couldn’t place. To Goro, it only added to his oafish demeanor— he didn’t truly care about his work, no. He cared about the power and what meager money it placed in his pocket, which  _ had  _ to be more than the meager earnings Goro received. Really, if Goro were to be a power-and-money-hungry beast, he wouldn’t be doing  _ social work _ . He’d be doing something much more lucrative and much less emotionally taxing— but his boss  _ was  _ a bit of an oaf, after all.

“To pick my daughter up from school,” Goro replied evenly, meeting his boss’s eyes. “Surely you have no issue with that, Ishii-san.”

Ishii chuffed out an ugly laugh, removing his hand from Goro’s desk to thumb at the pile of finished folders. “Only when you haven’t completed what I’ve asked of you. It’s not hard, Akechi.”

Goro raised a brow, face carefully neutral. “This is about Takahashi.” It was a statement rather than a question, and Ishii snorted with a sickening smirk.

“How’d you guess? That’s why I keep you around, Akechi. You’re just  _ so sharp.  _ So you wanna explain why you think you can do my job better than me?” Ishii began, that smirk slowly fading. Good— Goro could barely stand to look at it any longer. “ _ You  _ don’t get to decide who does  _ your  _ work. I do. Those case files you dumped all over Takahashi’s desk just because you didn’t want to do them? I want them done  _ today _ .”

Goro scoffed, brows furrowed incredulously. “That’s not possible. Those weren’t mine to do— if Takahashi had picked up his damn slack-“

“They’re not his problem anymore. They’re yours. You’re smart, Akechi. I’m  _ sure  _ you can figure out a way to do it.”

“And if I don’t? If I leave right now to take my daughter home?”

“I suggest you phone a friend. I won’t fire you— both of us know that— but you can kiss your current salary goodbye.” 

Goro’s eyes widened despite his best efforts to remain neutral before his boss. He struggled as it was to make ends meet and give his daughter a better childhood than he ever had— if his paycheck was docked…

“There’s a reason why you couldn’t make it in show biz and ended up here, Akechi,” Ishii continued, as if Goro had asked. He’d heard this spiel before and each time, he told himself he didn’t care— but each time, that became a little bit more of a lie to himself. His boss turned, not even  _ looking  _ at Goro as he walked off, most likely to pack up and enjoy his time at home. “You can play boss all you want, but there’s no spot at the top for you. Some people just aren’t cut out for it. So do me a favor and do your job.”

Goro would throttle him. He’d murder him and inevitably go to jail, but it may even be worth it at this point. Except, that particular jab on this particular day hit Goro a little harder than normal, plucked a few more sore strings from his past, and rendered him pathetically silent with nails digging painfully into his palms and eyes darting away.  _ Fuck _ . 

Unfortunately, Goro needed his job and loved his work on a good day, so he would simply have to bite the bullet. 

He worked as quickly as he could, plowing through that fat stack of folders as quickly as possible. His phone was so old that the battery died within a span of a few hours after unplugging it, so contacting the school (or anyone else) was out of the question. He tried not to look at the clock as he worked lest he lose his rhythm, but the sinking sun outside his window gave him a rough estimate of the time nonetheless. By the time he’d closed the last folder, tossed it across his desk, and snatched up his satchel, the light outside had turned golden, the sun threatening to dip below the horizon. Goro had never been so late picking up his daughter, nor had he driven so fast, or run so many red lights in one day. He  _ dared  _ the police to pull him over, but he encountered none, arriving at the elementary school unscathed and all but ripping open the doors of the building. 

Signs pointed him in the direction of the cafeteria, where children would stay in the after school program should their parents work late— Goro had never signed Kimiko up for said program, but he hoped they’d taken her in today by default. His heart ached just imagining the alternative— waiting alone and afraid, feeling abandoned and forgotten in a dark cafeteria as the sun rapidly set. Dread gripped his heart as well, as his brain had begun to supply much less pleasant alternatives— what if someone had taken her? 

He was panting by the time he’d reached the cafeteria ( _ pathetic, it was only a ten second jog from the front door),  _ rounding the corner and preparing for the worst only to see—

“Wow! That’s really neat, Kitagawa-sensei! I didn’t know the water could do that with the paint…”

“Water is as much an artistic tool as paint. What you’ve done here is beautiful, Kimiko-kun. Is this a crane?”

The lone occupants of the cafeteria were Goro’s daughter and a rather lanky man with inky blue hair swept to one side—  _ Kitagawa-sensei _ , apparently. The duo were bent over a rather large piece of paper spread out over one table, brushes in their hands as they swept them across the surface, dipped them in paint-murky water, and continued. 

“Yes! I wanted to make it look like it was flying so that—“ Kimiko stopped mid sentence as she glanced up, eyes going wide as she spotted Goro motionless in the doorway. For one sickening moment, Goro was afraid she’d be angry with him, but she simply threw her brush down— making Kitagawa wince— and bounded toward him with all the grace of a drunken giraffe. “Daddy! You’re here! Did you have to work late? Did your  _ mean old boss  _ keep you again?” She clung to his middle, squeezing the breath out of him and staring up at him with a scrunch in her nose, as if she were ready to take on his boss all by herself. His heart melted as he scooped her into his arms— she was almost too heavy to lift— and held her close.

“I’m so sorry, Kimi… I really didn’t mean to stay late, but… you’re right. My  _ mean old boss  _ again.” She squealed as she was lifted, grinning as if Goro hadn’t left her after school for an extra two hours.  _ Fuck, how was he allowed to adopt her? He wasn’t fit to be a parent. She deserved better.  _ He turned his gaze to Kitagawa, who was busy packing up their art supplies while the paper dried.  _ He must be her art teacher.  _ Goro had never met anyone but her homeroom teacher during conferences, but it would be to his benefit to meet the rest, he supposed. Except… he didn’t particularly wish his first impression on Kitagawa to be after forcing him to stay hours late after work to entertain his child. “Ah, Kitagawa-sensei? Let me help you with that,” he offered in his most pleasant voice, fit for TV, though it was rather more awkward these days— rusty without practice. 

With Kimiko balanced precariously on one hip, he made his way to the table, reaching for one brush only for his hand to collide with Kitagawa’s, knocking into the cup of water they’d used to dip their dirty brushes in. Murky, black-brown water splashed out all over the table and the paper Kitagawa and Kimiko had been painting on. Colors ran before Goro’s very eyes, his heart stopping and his breath catching in his throat.

“ _ Fuck _ , I am  _ so—“ _

“Daddy!” Kimiko squeaked indignantly. “Don’t swear!”

Goro swallowed the rest of his apology, shame burning at his cheeks as he watched Kitagawa stare at the ruined painting.  _ Surely  _ he’d be banned from school grounds.  _ Surely  _ he’d end up on some teacher shitlist.  _ Surely _ he’d—

“Oh, how  _ splendid!” _

What.

Kitagawa’s eyes were wide, his lips twisted into a strange smile that Goro tentatively labeled as  _ awestruck.  _ What the fuck?

“This  _ fated accident _ … Look how the colors bleed, giving just the  _ hint  _ of a crane in flight below the water, where the ink had time to saturate the fibers,” Kitagawa murmured, thumbing over his chin thoughtfully as his gaze roamed over the paper. Goro was fairly sure the other man was far, far away in his own little world. Come to think of it, Kimiko  _ had  _ mentioned her art teacher was rather strange… Goro jumped as Kitagawa’s head suddenly whipped around to face him, jolting Kimiko in his arms and making her giggle. “Yours and Kimiko’s talents combined… it is as if you were meant to make art together.”

“I… I don’t mean to—  _ belittle  _ anything, but I merely spilled a cup of water on the—“

“Nonsense! You’ve enhanced the piece, albeit unwittingly,” Kitagawa continued, “you have the hands of a creator. Or perhaps a destroyer… Both are equally useful. Ah… I suppose an introduction is in order.” Goro felt rather like he’d been through a few typhoons— that is to say, he was frazzled and exhausted from simply  _ listening  _ to Kitagawa prattle on and on. “My name is Yusuke Kitagawa. I teach art here twice a week. You are Kimiko’s father, yes?” 

“Ah, yes, I am,” Goro began, putting on his sweetest and most welcoming smile. “My name is Goro Akechi. There’s no use in lingering on past events, but I wish we’d met under different circumstances, Kitagawa-sensei.” He paused, pursed his lips, and then gave Kitagawa the best bow he could muster with Kimiko in his arms. “Thank you for watching her. My apologies— I truly didn’t plan on staying so late at work today. It won’t happen again.”

Kitagawa held up a placating hand, his expression turning soft. As Goro straightened, wincing as his back popped, he finally allowed himself a real look at Kitagawa’s face. He was a few inches taller than Goro himself, though it looked as if a well timed breeze could knock him over. His features were elegant and, for lack of a better word,  _ pretty—  _ as if he were meant to be the painting rather than the painter.  _ Jeez, Goro was lonely. And sad. He needed to get a damn life.  _ “It’s quite alright, Akechi-san. Truly, you’ve opened my eyes this evening. And your daughter is quite talented, you know. She has a passion for art that I see only in my most dedicated pupils.” Kitagawa’s gaze grew distant for a moment— Goro got the general idea that the man had the equivalent of a bowl of rice for brains— before he focused back on the pair. 

“Still,” Goro began, watching Kitagawa tilt his head, a piece of dark hair falling into his eyes. “Let me treat you to dinner at the very least, since I’ve undoubtedly kept you from it. Choose any place you’d like.” His wallet was screaming at him already, but he ignored the gnawing feeling in his gut. He didn’t exactly know any other way to repay Kitagawa that wasn’t weird and/or probably illegal, so… he’d rework his finances for the month. Kimiko would have more than enough food, but Goro wouldn’t be able to buy her anything extra should she see something in a store that catches her eye. When Goro ran short on funds, Kimiko was surprisingly understanding for a child her age— Goro wished she didn’t have to be.  _ “It’s okay, daddy,”  _ she’d say,  _ “I have tons of toys already!”  _ or,  _ “Candy gives you cavities, you know. So it’s okay! I should take care of my teeth.” _ She deserved all the toys and candy in the world.

“Ah,” Kitagawa’s eyes brightened at the mention of dinner. Goro had hoped he was the kind of person to politely decline, but apparently he loved free dinners just as much as Goro did. “That would be lovely, actually. I know a wonderful soba restaurant in Kichijoji.” 

While Goro  _ could  _ go for a big bowl of fresh soba, Kichijoji was a half hour train ride  _ and  _ notoriously expensive. It  _ was  _ Yusuke’s choice, however… it would be rude to deny him, right? Besides, it would be embarrassing to admit he was rather tired and very low on funds. Soba was generally inexpensive— perhaps Goro would just get lucky and Kitagawa would choose the only cheap soba restaurant in Kichijoji. “That sounds perfect,” Goro replied instead, smiling sweetly. “Shall I meet you there? I can arrange for Kimiko to be watched by a friend for a few hours— or she can tag along if she’d like.” He turned his attention to his daughter, noting the drowsy look in her eye as he gently lowered her to the floor. “Is that alright? You can spend a little time with aunt Ann and aunt Shiho tonight, hm? Or you can come with us.” He smiled warmly, watching Kimiko give him a grin in return. 

“I wanna go!” she chirped. She then seemed to get distracted, her brow furrowing as her grin faded. “What if I lose my tooth in the soba? Look!” She opened her mouth, baring her lower teeth and beginning to push on a loose tooth with her tongue. It wiggled precariously, and just as Kimiko reached a paint-stained hand toward her mouth to touch it, Goro gently took her wrist in his hand and lowered it back down.

“Fingers out of your mouth, please.” Goro grimaced at the thought of that loose tooth— the last thing he wanted to be doing at the soba restaurant was helping Kimiko yank it from her mouth. “You don’t want to get sick. And you have paint on your hands— paint  _ can’t  _ taste good, can it?”

Kimiko giggled, shaking her head. “No! I don’t wanna eat paint! But did you see my tooth?”

“Yes, I saw your tooth. It’s very loose, isn’t it?”

“Yup! So, are we going to dinner now?”

Kitagawa began to chuckle, a warm look in his eye. He’s been so quiet that Goro almost forgot he was there— perhaps he was more of the silent observer type. “Of course. Please, allow me to gather my things and then we can take the train together?”

“Of course,” Goro replied with a smile. He silently hoped his subway pass still had enough money on it for a round trip. Worst case scenario, he could pull a few strings if he needed to…

While Kitagawa packed up his things in his classroom, Goro took Kimiko’s backpack back to his car, locked it, and met Kitagawa at the entrance to the cafeteria. The subway was only a two minute walk from the school entrance— Goro was unfortunately good at small talk, though he loathed it so, but to his immense joy and pride, Kimiko filled much of the silence all the way to the crowded subway. The trio squeezed onto the train just as the doors began to close, and soon Goro found himself uncomfortably close to the art teacher, Kimiko wedged between them for protection. Thankfully, the train was rather loud for any sort of conversation, and by the time there was a lull in the noise, Kitagawa was swept away with an indignant squawk into the new crowd boarding the train at that stop. Goro couldn’t help but laugh a bit, hiding it behind his hand as he watched Kitagawa peer longingly back at them above a sea of heads. Goro waved with a sympathetic smile, watching Kitagawa’s expression soften as he waved back. 

Goro hefted Kimiko into his arms as they reached their stop, shouldering his way through the crowd as Kimiko began to laugh at the way he wheezed. “You’re getting too heavy for me to carry,” he panted. Though he hadn’t experienced all of Kimiko’s growth milestones, he would soon experience the feeling of watching his child outgrow the ability to be carried in his arms. Goro tried not to think about it much— he didn’t think he was particularly sentimental, but perhaps parenthood had changed him more than he thought.

“Right,” sighed Kitagawa beside him, startling him. He was brushing out his coat, fixing his hair, and presumably relaxing from the chaos of the train. “Shall we be off, then? I can lead the way.”

Kichijoji was incredibly lively at night, with food vendors on every corner and shops packed to the brim with late-night customers. Though Christmas wasn’t for weeks yet, fairy lights were draped from building to building above the grid-style roads. Pounding music echoed from the depths of nightclubs and loud chatter carried through the cold air from open bars. A portly man at a takoyaki stand held a sample tray of the fresh doughy spheres in front of Kimiko. Her eyes brightened as she grabbed one, thanked the man, and promptly shoved it into her mouth.

“Chew slowly, Kimi,” Goro chided. “Don’t choke on it.”

Kimiko gave him a thumbs up with her free hand, now covered in powdered sugar and chocolate sauce. “Mmhm!” she replied with her mouth full.

“Have you been here before?” Kitagawa queried softly from his other side. 

“Many times,” Goro replied wistfully. “Do you know the Jazz Jin? It’s a jazz bar a few blocks down. I had a part time job there after high school.” Muhen, the owner of the bar, was kind enough to offer him a job though Goro didn’t have much to offer but sweeping the floors. However, he  _ did  _ have beginner trumpet skills from middle school. So, Goro would play for tips on nights he wasn’t sweeping, and once he was of legal age to mix drinks, he learned a bit of bartending. Goro soon learned the hard way that alcohol probably wasn’t the most wonderful thing for his fragile mental state, especially in college. “I kept a job there until I found a job in the career I actually wanted.”

“The Jazz Jin… I’m not entirely sure if I’ve been there before,” Kitagawa mused, a hand thoughtfully on his chin, “Perhaps we could visit sometime.”

Goro faltered, his eyes widening.  _ We?  _ Before he could prompt Kitagawa to clarify, they were stepping into the soba restaurant. Kitagawa spoke softly with the servers before they were being led to a table near the back. As far as soba restaurants went, this one was rather nice. It gnawed at Goro’s gut to know that he would probably be paying prices that matched the nice decor. 

“This is one of my favorite restaurants,” Kitagawa hummed as they all settled into their seats. Kimiko happily opened her box of crayons to start coloring the picture on her kids menu. Goro smiled politely at the other man, carefully hiding his nerves as he eyed the prices. 

“Oh? It looks lovely, Kitagawa-san.” 

Goro’s eyes widened as Kitagawa held up a silencing hand with a pleasant smile. “Please, call me Yusuke. I feel as if I should be on equal ground with the families of my students, after all.”

“R-Right,” Goro replied shakily. It was fine— it was totally normal to skip all formalities with your daughter’s handsome teacher, right? Yusuke’s logic made sense. It was normal. Goro was just incredibly lonely, horribly hopeful, and perhaps a bit delusional. “In that case, call me Goro.” 

After ordering what had to be the cheapest thing on the menu besides the kids entrees, Goro folded his hands in his lap and plastered on another perfect smile. “So… How long have you been teaching, Kitagawa-kun?”

“Yusuke,” the man amended gently, “But... Ah… I suppose it hasn’t been that long— only perhaps five years. I was simply an artist before then, but the school system requested that I come teach after their previous art instructor retired.”

“Ah,” Goro tilted his head questioningly. “Are you well known?”

Yusuke smiled a crooked little smile that was hard to read. “I wouldn’t say that. I recently held a gallery before my hiring, so I suppose that must have been the catalyst.”

“Kitagawa-sensei is  _ sooo _ good at art!” Kimiko announced, her little brow still furrowed in concentration as she scribbled away at her kids menu. “He has this really cool painting in the classroom! It’s this really pretty lady, and there’s a baby in her arms.”

Goro raised a brow, a smile unfurling on his lips. “Oh?” Curiously, Yusuke’s cheeks grew pink.

“Ah, that was… my mother painted it. I only recently finished restoring it— the original version was stolen and painted over. An old friend of mine helped me retrieve it and finally bring it home.”

Pursing his lips, Goro hummed sympathetically.  _ Stolen?  _ While Goro was very curious, he didn’t feel as if he were in the position to pry— he’d simply wait until Yusuke was comfortable enough to share it himself. “Well, I’m glad you have it now. And I’m sure your mother is pleased to have it home, as well.”

Yusuke smiled softly, gaze averted and trained at the table's surface. “She would be,” he agreed softly.

Goro nodded, opening his mouth to continue, before the realization set in—  _ past tense. Oh no. Yusuke’s mother was… _

“I’m sorry,” Goro blurted, causing Yusuke to startle and Kimiko to frown as her careful crayon line was interrupted. “About— About your mother. Mine, too. I-I mean, she’s gone, as well. I-I mean-! I don’t mean to imply that they’re  _ gone,  _ if that’s something you believe in. I-“

Yusuke began to chuckle, holding up a placating hand as Goro’s words died on his tongue.  _ What the fuck was wrong with him?  _ Fuck his vow to never seek comfort at the bottom of a bottle again— he needed a drink. Or two. “It’s alright, Goro. I understand what you mean. She passed when I was barely two years old, so I really didn’t have that much time with her. This painting is what I have, and I suppose you could say that it’s how she’s ‘with me’ to this day.” His smile softened, reaching across the table to give Goro’s hand a quick squeeze. Goro’s stupid brain melted into a puddle at that very moment, his eyes widening comically. Yusuke’s hand was cold against his own. “Do you have anything to remember your mother by?”

Goro had to stop and think, worrying at his lip with his teeth.  _ Did he?  _ They were never really well off, so Goro didn’t get toys. Their house was rather barren, but whatever was inside upon his mother’s death, he didn’t get to keep. He was spirited away to the police station that very night, never to return to his home. He never even received any of his belongings when he reached the children’s home, not that he had many to begin with. As much as Goro liked to overshare, he’d spare Yusuke the gritty details. “No,” he replied softly, “she passed when I was eight, and we didn’t particularly have anything to begin with. However… Cup ramen reminds me of her.”

Yusuke smiled warmly, eyes bright, and Goro felt his breath catch in his throat. “I think that is rather poetic— you will always have something to remind you of her, even if it isn’t always tangible. I believe that is better than some physical memento— you would always worry about misplacing something like that. With cup ramen, you will never go without it. Every grocery store trip will remind you of her, hm?” 

Goro hadn’t ever thought of it like that. He’d often bemoaned the fact that he didn’t have any keepsakes from his mother, but now he supposed he really didn’t mind. He had little things that reminded him of her each and every day, and that… that was neat, wasn’t it? “Y-Yes,” Goro replied, blinking owlishly before breaking into a genuine smile of his own. “You truly do have a unique thought process, don’t you?”

Before Yusuke could reply, their food was being placed in front of them, Kimiko’s eyes going wide as saucers at the sight of her ramen bowl. It did look rather fancy, and Goro could practically feel his wallet shriveling up just looking at it. He’d ordered himself a small plate of tempura— really, it was only two pieces of fish and two disks of sweet potato, but it was the cheapest thing they carried. It would have to be enough, and it ought to be the most delicious tempura he’d ever had…

They ate in relative silence, mostly due to the fact that Kimiko was inhaling her food like a feral beast and Yusuke seemed enthralled by the narutomaki held in his chopsticks. Eventually, Yusuke was the one to break the silence, smiling that strange smile of his across the table at him. “You have very distinct features,” Yusuke began, making Goro’s eyes fly open. He said it as if he were discussing the weather… Goro supposed human features were something normal for an artist to observe, but… “However, Kimiko-chan seems to share none of them. Genetics are intriguing, hm?”

“O-Oh, I’m not… I  _ am  _ her father, but not biologically,” Goro explained quickly, tripping over his words as Kimiko eyed him. When Yusuke’s brows raised in intrigue, Goro continued, “I fostered her when she was five and finally adopted her at six. I’m a social worker— specifically specializing in the welfare of women and children. Kimiko was…” Goro pursed his lips, unsure whether to continue with his daughter right beside him, but she seemed to be totally enthralled with her ramen once more. “Her previous home life was horrible, to say the least. She wasn’t old for the foster system, per se, but it… it really isn’t a kind system. No one should have to experience it.”

Yusuke gently placed his chopsticks down, folding his hands and resting his chin on the bridge they made. “Ah,” he hummed, “you seem to speak from personal experience.”

Goro hadn’t been read like this in quite some time. Honestly, it was… a little exhilarating. “Yes, I was a foster child. I aged out of the system,” he explained shortly. He didn’t mind telling the story, but the restaurant was crowded and he wished to save the gritty details from Kimiko— she shouldn’t have to know yet. Thankfully, Yusuke seemed to get the message, nodding with an unreadable look on his face. 

“I see,” he replied softly. “You and I aren’t so different, are we?” 

Goro wasn’t entirely certain what that meant, but he smiled anyway, sweet and understanding. “Oh?” he prompted. He knew the horrors of the foster care system well, and he knew it affected countless people like him, so he wondered just how Yusuke had made it out alive and kicking and  _ successful.  _

“I was taken in by a friend of my mother after her passing,” Yusuke continued. “The artist Madarame. He was kind to me as a child, and I’d thought my life to be fine, but… I suppose my situation was gilded rather than gold.” Yusuke gave a small smile, closing his eyes for a moment as if recalling a pleasant memory— strange, considering his situation sounded anything but pleasant. Goro had been 18 and at the lowest valley of his mental well-being at the time of Madarame’s arrest; it made national news, and probably international within art circles, as well. To be a pupil of Madarame, one must have had incredible skill, as those works of art eventually had to belong to the master. If Yusuke was such a talented artist to be  _ raised  _ under the instruction of Madarame, Goro wondered if there was more to the other man than meets the eye. Perhaps it was still the remnants of the Detective Prince clinging to his thought process, but it truly was intriguing.

Goro hummed sympathetically, chopsticks idly crushing tempura crumbs on his plate. “I’ve met many others with situations like yours,” he replied gently, “where they’ve been made to believe their situation is fine because of reassurance from the other party. It’s liberating as well as a little heartbreaking to face the truth, hm?”

A wistful look in his eye, Yusuke enjoyed a mouthful of udon before continuing. “It was difficult, yes, but… I was not without support. If I hadn’t had a chance encounter with a friend I still have to this day, I suppose I…” he paused, eyes going distant as he averted his gaze. For a moment, his gaze flicked between Goro and Kimiko as if weighing his next words in the company of others. “I suppose I would not be here enjoying dinner with you tonight,” he settled on, words careful and voice soft, though he was smiling ever so slightly. Goro knew that look, read that body language. It was familiar. It was that of a person who truly wouldn’t have made it out alive if not for fate’s intervention.

“I’m certainly glad to have the opportunity to share a meal with you, so I suppose I should thank your friend,” Goro laughed out softly, meeting Yusuke’s eyes with a nod and a warm smile. “Really, I’m glad you’re here today, Yusuke.”

Just like that, Yusuke’s expression brightened, though his odd smile was soft as ever. “Yes,” he hummed, “I’m glad, as well.”

By the time the check came, Goro had long forgotten they had enjoyed meals he had promised to pay for. Thanking the server and attempting to keep a poker face, he surveyed the bill, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from burgeoning at the total. It was fine. He was fine. He only had to hope and pray to any gods that would listen that he had enough money in his wallet and/or his bank account. 

But fate wouldn’t be so kind.

After embarrassingly scrounging for change and watching his card decline several times, Yusuke held up a hand, smiling gently, and produced an honest-to-god wad of cash. He didn’t even look at the total, and Goro was in the midst of protesting when Yusuke handed over some amount of bills, the server producing the appropriate amount of change from a number of pockets in their apron. Goro’s jaw dropped limply, eyes wide as he aimed a horrified look at Yusuke. “I… I-I was supposed to pay,” he stammered weakly. “This was— This was my idea, my treat. I… If I had just looked for a few more moments, I would have—“

“There’s no need,” Yusuke replied softly, kindly, and it made Goro’s guts twist. Kindness no longer made him want to punch someone— therapy had taken care of that— but, sometimes, it rather made him want to punch himself. “You didn’t have the necessary funds, and I did, and I have no qualms with helping a friend.”

Goro’s mouth opened and closed pathetically like a fish out of water as he floundered for words, despair settling deep in his gut. He didn’t want Yusuke to think he’d  _ used  _ him for food… “N-Next time,” he blurted, watching Yusuke blink in surprise. “Next time, dinner is on me.”

He was almost afraid Yusuke would decline, but the man smiled that strange, gentle smile that looked as if he were already off in his own world, and nodded. “I look forward to it.”

———

“Isn’t Kitagawa-sensei cool?” Kimiko yawned out as Goro tucked her blankets around her sleepy form. “He’s  _ so  _ nice. And  _ really  _ funny. Sometimes he’s kinda weird, but that’s funny, too.”

“Weird?” Goro hummed, “You’re calling your favorite teacher a weirdo? Well, I suppose I should tell him,” he teased.

“No!” Kimiko squealed, giggling. “I meant it as a  _ complement _ !”

“Ohhh,” Goro replied, lips twisting into a smirk, “so  _ now  _ it’s a complement. Hm. I see.”

“ _ No!! _ ” Kimiko cackled, squirming indignantly in her blankets. Goro fixed them right back. “Daddy, you’re so mean!”

“Me?  _ Mean?”  _ Goro gasped, hand flying to his chest in mock hurt. “My own daughter… calling me mean? Well, I can barely stand the thought of it… and now… I must get revenge! Now you know who I truly am!!”

Kimiko’s giggles came in squeals as Goro pounced, tickling her until she asked him to stop. Goro had received a foot to the face in the midst of the chaos, but he didn’t mind. “You win! Mr. Evil, you win…  _ this time.”  _ Kimiko said lowly, ominously, and it made Goro snort, though he pursed his lips to choke back a laugh and keep character.

“Mr.  _ Evil _ ? Is that the best name you can come up with?” Goro teased, a brow raised. Kimiko pouted, crossing her arms and nodding.

“Yes,” she said firmly. “It’s very to-the-point. You are a mister, and you’re evil.”

“Well. Hm. I suppose I can’t argue with that.”

“And now that evil has been defeated, the hero deserves a bedtime story,” Kimiko continued, a smile blooming on her face that was nothing short of conniving.

“Are you sure  _ I’m  _ the evil one?”

“ _ Hey _ !”

———

Before Goro knew it, a week had flown by since his dinner outing with Yusuke. On the train ride home, Goro bowed, promised he’d be free the following Tuesday, and gave Yusuke his number before scooping a sleepy Kimiko into his arms and stepping off the train. He’d only remembered his promise once he received a text from an unknown number, inquiring politely about dinner plans. 

The night went much like the previous dinner outing, though Yusuke picked a much cheaper and much closer restaurant (to Goro’s relief and embarrassment). This time, however, the mood was lighter and perhaps a bit easier, making conversation smooth and natural. While Kimiko colored, Goro and Yusuke talked the night away, laughing, debating, and nodding along. Yusuke proved to be an intellectual, as eccentric as he was. He was well read, able to recite Kant and Nietzsche like the alphabet. Goro was rather relieved to be able to speak about a topic he was well versed on, as he’d only embarrass himself trying to talk about art with an expert of the trade. 

As they ate, they shared glances, smiles, and the occasional laugh. Really, as time went on, goro found he didn’t want their little outings to end. If he weren’t limited by money, he’d simply order them more courses so they’d have an excuse to keep talking. After all, they’d have no need to get together like this after Goro’s debt is replayed, right? That simple fact made his heart drop as the check arrived, and it apparently showed on his face.

“Ah,” Yusuke hummed, again reaching across the table to place an elegant, cold hand atop Goro’s as it held the checkbook. “It’s quite alright if you haven’t the funds to cover it. I-“

“N-No, it isn’t that,” Goro replied shakily, plastering on a smile and shaking his head. “I was simply lost in thought. I assure you I have the means to pay this time.”

“Not a problem,” Yusuke replied softly, a gentle smile curving his lips. “Then I shall pay for our next date.”

“Mm,” Goro agreed wordlessly, slipping his card into the—  _ HUH? Did… did he hear that correctly?  _ “D-Date..? Next date…?”  _ Next  _ implied that they’d already had at least one date— was this a date? Was the  _ last  _ dinner a date, as well? No… No,  _ this  _ outing was far more date-like than the last, but how  _ awkward  _ to have brought his daughter on what was supposed to be a date… Well, he didn’t know Yusuke had thought of it as a date, and… honestly, Goro wasn’t upset that he did. Truthfully, Goro was rathe relieved he wasn’t the only one picking up on tension or feeling a strange atmosphere around them that night.

“Yes. Was I… under the wrong impression..?” Yusuke cocked his head, a perfect strand of perfect dark hair falling into his perfect face and—  _ gah!! _

“N-No, I… I think I’d like that. A date. I suppose… I hadn’t thought of this as a date, but I don’t mind one bit.” Goro’s voice was surprisingly even for someone who just got their mental shit rocked by a single sentence. Yusuke’s resulting smile was sweet enough, Goro was surprised he hadn’t instantly developed diabetes. 

“Lovely. Please, allow me to walk you back to your car.”

“Actually,” Goro began softly, catching Yusuke’s attention. “Would you like to stay a bit longer?” 

“Yeah!” Kimiko added, still coloring. “Let’s stay out longer! Pretty please? It’s not my bed time yet! Not even close!”

Yusuke’s chuckle was a rumble of thunder in his chest. “Of course,” he replied softly, “there’s nothing I’d want more.”

————

Goro felt as if he were in the midst of serious heart palpitations as he slid into the drivers seat of his car. Ann and Shiho graciously agreed to watch Kimiko for the day without hearing more than basic details (Ann  _ did _ freak out at the mention of a date, but Shiho calmed her down enough that she didn’t pry), but with Kimiko dropped off, that meant Goro was  _ really  _ going on this date. He’d been awaiting it in nervous anticipation for about a week, since his last date-but-not-date with Yusuke, and it still didn’t quite seem real to him. Goro hadn’t gone on a date since he was in high school— even then, it was begrudging. He didn’t quite know what to do with the concept of going on a date with a man he was actually  _ interested  _ in. He didn’t even know what to  _ do  _ on a date. What makes it different from spending time with a friend? Not that Goro was well versed in that either— he didn’t particularly have any friends other than Ann (and Shiho by proxy).

He had a rather sad life now that he thought about it. However, it wasn’t all dark— he got to watch his daughter grow up, after all. She truly made him want to be a better person. And so he sucked it the fuck up as he parked his car at Inokashira park, got out, and marched up the hill to meet Yusuke with cheap wine in hand. He was going on this damn date and he wasn’t going to be a coward about it.

“Goro,” Yusuke greeted warmly as Goro approached, smiling easily as he stood from his seat on the blanket he’d spread across the sunny grass. “Oh— wine? How lovely.” Goro spotted an open sketchbook completely with a case of sketching pencils laying upon the blanket where Yusuke was sitting. A sketch of couples boating on the pond sat unfinished on the page. 

“It isn’t much, but I thought it might be nice. I’ve always wanted to drink wine in a park like they do in the movies,” Goro replied wryly, holding out the wine bottle for Yusuke to read. However, a thought occurred to him that made his smile fall in an instant—  _ he didn’t bring any fucking glasses.  _ “I… It seems we have nothing to drink this wine with.”

“Hm? Why not drink straight from the bottle?” Yusuke asked, cocking his head as if it were the most obvious suggestion in the world. Goro grimaced, not because it was a bad idea, but because he was no stranger to drinking wine straight from the bottle. There was a reason he was well acquainted with therapy. “Is that so strange?” Yusuke continued, apparently misreading the expression on Goro’s face as aversion to the idea.

“N-No, I… that works, as long as you don’t mind drinking after another person.”

“Of course,” Yusuke replied softly, “We  _ are  _ on a date, after all. I would hope I wouldn’t mind drinking after you.”

“R-Right.” Goro’s cheeks heated as he settled onto Yusuke’s picnic blanket, struggling with the cork of the bottle until it finally popped off and rolled into his lap. Drinking after Yusuke would be like a kiss, right? An indirect kiss.  _ God, Goro hadn’t had any action ever.  _ “Would you like to do the honors?”

“The first sip? Thank you, Goro. I  _ am  _ honored.” Yusuke settled beside him, their knees knocking together, and gingerly took the bottle to take a sip. The other man closed his eyes, savoring the wine for a moment before sighing. “I am not sure how to properly drink wine.”

“I don’t think there’s a  _ proper  _ way when you’re drinking it straight from the bottle,” Goro replied with a soft laugh. Yusuke joined in, his laugh low and sweet like music to Goro’s ears, before passing the bottle to Goro. Ignoring the memories of bad decisions from his 20’s, Goro tipped the bottle back and drank. Sitting with Yusuke felt a lot like drinking wine straight from the bottle in the middle of a park on a sunny afternoon— freeing, youthful, and a little absurd. It was everything Goro needed in the midst of his rather depressing life. The duo sat mostly in comforting silence, exchanging words and stories as they observed the scenery around them. Yusuke continued to sketch beside him, flipping page after page and filling each with a sketch of someone around them.

“I find it fascinating while I draw a stranger to contemplate what their life may be like,” Yusuke said softly as his pencil traced the slope of a distant stranger’s nose. They sat on a park bench a few meters away, armed with a bag of bread to feed to lucky pigeons. 

“Oh?” Goro hummed, brows raised in interest. “What do you suppose this person is like? What do they do?”

Yusuke tapped his chin thoughtfully, smudging graphite on pale skin. “Mm. I believe… she runs a bird supply store as a hobby. She is a retired school teacher,” he answered with utmost confidence. 

“Oh?” Goro barely held back a laugh. He didn’t take Yusuke for a jokester. “Is that all?”

“She has a pet parrot that she had to leave at home lest it start a fight with the wild pigeons,” Yusuke said sagely. Goro couldn’t help but begin to laugh softly, shaking his head.

This continued for a good while, each of them alternating singling out an unsuspecting stranger and making up an absurd backstory about them whilst knowing nothing about them at all. Soon enough, Goro found himself having a genuinely good time— a good  _ date _ — and soon enough, the wine bottle was empty.

“I would really like to sketch you,” Yusuke said spontaneously after a moment of silence, stealing whatever words Goro was about to utter straight from his lips.

“I-I… Me? You want to sketch  _ me? _ ”

“I find your features elegant— enchanting, even,” Yusuke explained, as if that was supposed to make Goro feel any less utterly confused. “You have an easy beauty in the way you hold yourself. I’d like to capture it on paper— to see if my hands can truly depict such a beauty.”

“B-Beauty? You can’t be serious,” Goro sputtered, eyes wide. Maybe he was beautiful when he was younger, sure, but now he was well into his thirties with more than a few more pounds on his waistline than when he was seventeen and famous. His hair wasn’t graying or receding yet (surprisingly), but he had noticed crows feet at the corners of his eyes and divots between his brows along with frown lines beginning to form near his mouth that he didn’t quite like to look at in the mirror every morning. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Again, Yusuke looked dead serious in a way that was both endearing and intimidating. “Can I show you? Of course, you need not say yes— I would never pressure a subject into art, for coercion never makes for good muses.”

It wasn’t as if Goro had any conflict with art— he just didn’t want to be the subject. It made him self conscious— uncomfortable even. However, he trusted Yusuke, and his art was gorgeous and somehow turned every individual he sketched into an ethereal human being. So, naturally, the words left his lips before he could think about them.

“I suppose.” 

The resulting expression on Yusuke’s face was all worth it.

————

And so, Goro spent the majority of his afternoon perched on a stool in Yusuke’s apartment, trying his best to stay utterly still and not scratch the itch on his nose that had been bothering him for half an hour lest Yusuke fuss at him for moving.

“Ah… Finished,” Yusuke finally uttered, making Goro sigh out a deep breath and slump into his normal horrid, back-breaking posture. The artist didn’t quite utter his words with much conviction, however. 

“Was I too difficult a subject?” Goro teased, stretching his arms above his head. Yusuke was frowning at his canvas, tilting his head this way and that as if trying to make the sketch look good. Despite already knowing he wasn’t fit to be a muse, Goro couldn’t help but be disappointed that such a skilled artist as Yusuke couldn’t even be satisfied with his depiction.

“Yes,” Yusuke replied evenly, and it hurt more than Goro anticipated despite attempting to raise his guard. “I simply cannot do you justice like this. Your beauty eludes my hands… my tools cannot capture your visage the way I see it with my eyes. I… have rarely encountered such a vexing issue.” Yusuke tapped the end of his pencil against his lips, his brows furrowed thoughtfully as he stared at the canvas, and then glanced at Goro. 

“I… I don’t follow,” Goro replied softly, puzzled. Was he just that ugly? Why didn’t Yusuke say as much? He was a blunt kind of man, after all.

“I need… more. To capture the full extent of your beauty, I need…” Yusuke placed his pencil on his easel, biting his lip as he wrung his hands. Goro could feel his heart leaping into his throat, wondering just what kind of thought would make even Yusuke struggle to say it.

“You need…?”

“I… would like to preface this with the fact that you are in no way obligated to say yes simply because I ask,” Yusuke said quickly, “My job as an artist is never to coerce, only to draw inspiration from a willing muse. I often find that I can capture the true beauty of my muse through full body modeling.”

“Alright…”

“Nude.”

Goro choked on his next inhale. “I’m sorry,  _ what?” _

“Modeling in the nude carries many misconceptions,” Yusuke began, as if he were lecturing a classroom full of students. “It is entirely nonsexual, and the purpose is merely to capture the full beauty of the human form. Furthermore—“

“Wouldn’t a— a younger model serve you better in this particular… endeavor? To be completely Frank, I haven’t even looked at a treadmill since I was 23,” Goro explained weakly, curling in on himself. 

“A person of your status would be even more perfect than a younger individual,” Yusuke explained, “after all, you have the most realistic, attainable human form that many could relate to. While a younger form may be more appealing to some in theory, it is far from the most realistic. Truth is beauty.” 

“I-I don’t… Truly, I would like to believe you, Yusuke, but…” A thought entered Goro’s mind at that moment, sickening and cold. Was Yusuke only dating him to crank out another piece of art? Did Yusuke know who he was, and was he planning to profit off of Goro’s objective  _ beauty? _ “Yusuke, if you merely needed a piece of art, you need only ask,” Goro continued quickly, the sick feeling building in his gut.  _ What if Yusuke never truly liked him?  _ “I enjoyed our dates, I truly did, but if it  _ is  _ to end here and become merely business, I would like to know.”  _ What if Goro truly did belong alone? What if he would never get his chance to love? _

“Goro,” Yusuke began softly, making Goro jump as a delicate hand lay upon his own. “I am attracted to both your personality and looks as a partner. It just so happens that your beauty is also appealing to me as an artist. I would still like to date you even if you weren’t an ideal muse, so to speak, because I am genuinely interested in you,” Yusuke assured him softly, making his breath catch in his throat. “Please, do not feel pressured to agree simply because you are my partner. I would love to simply continue this date with lunch should that be what you wish.”

_ Yusuke… Genuinely thought he was beautiful..?  _ Strangely enough, Goro felt his self consciousness melting away. He wasn’t sure if he could truly model  _ totally  _ in the nude, but he certainly felt as if he could give it a shot. “I… Perhaps for a little while. To see how I feel.”

“Excellent! I’ll begin right away. Please— undress while I give you privacy. Tell me whenever you’re ready.”

And so Goro did, slowly undressing as he reconsidered all of his life choices until he was standing bare in the middle of his date’s living room— bare except for the shirt he held to maintain a modicum of his modesty. Yusuke was as accommodating as always, allowing Goro to cover up and take breaks much as he wanted. Much to Goro’s surprise, he found himself growing more confident as the minutes ticked by, eventually becoming comfortable enough to uncover completely if only briefly. Yusuke’s gaze was appraising only for the sake of art, which brought Goro another level of comfort. 

Eventually, Yusuke gingerly placed his paint-covered brush into the cup, smiling softly and turning the canvas around to reveal… 

“That’s me..?”

Goro looked… ethereal. Of course he still looked like a middle aged single dad, but he looked true to himself, yet still… beautiful. Goro pulled on pieces of clothing as he stepped closer, eyes wide and lips parted as he got a good look at the piece. He’d always hated the bit of fat that had begun to accumulate around his middle, manifesting in a pair of lovehandles at his hips and a little pooch at his lower belly. As a young man, he may have preened at the thought of showing a little skin while modeling— he was toned then, after all. But… now Goro could see he didn’t have to look like a Greek statue to be beautiful. Honestly, he  _ owned  _ this modeling session. Was his ego coming back?

“This… This is what I meant when I wanted to capture your true beauty.”

Goro worried at his lip, feeling the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Thank you,” he said softly, his gaze drifting to Yusuke and taking in the man’s kind, delicate features. “Thank you for seeing beauty in me.”

Yusuke glanced up, his gaze soft and fond enough to make butterflies erupt in Goro’s belly. “Thank  _ you  _ for trusting me, Goro.” As Yusuke stood from his stool, he smiled— he was close enough that Goro could smell his cologne, could see the smallest freckle just under Yusuke’s left eye, and his breath caught in his throat.  _ When did couples normally share their first kiss? What date? Was this the time? This was technically the third date, after all. Was Yusuke going to-? _

“Would you like some tea?” Yusuke asked, low and inviting and so, so close. Goro swallowed, eyes wide like an absolute fool. Yusuke’s lips were  _ right there,  _ and it would be so easy to just… Really, there were no reasons  _ not  _ to kiss Yusuke right now except for the fact that—

Yusuke was leaning in.  _ Yusuke was leaning in. Holy fucking shit, abort mission— _

“W-Wait!” Goro yelped, planting his hands on Yusuke’s chest. The other man pulled away immediately, concern filling his eyes.

“Is this an inopportune time? I should have asked first— I often overlook these things… My apologies, Goro, I will simply—“

“I haven’t kissed anyone in fifteen years,” he blurted like an absolute fucking loser before slapping his hands over his traitorous mouth. Yusuke’s brows shot up.

“Oh? Is that what you fear? Inexperience?”

“I’m… I’m rusty…” Goro mumbled, making Yusuke chuckle low and quiet.

“One of the things I admire most about the human body is it’s ability to adapt— to  _ learn  _ from its surroundings. To  _ remember,”  _ Yusuke began softly, holding out a hand for Goro to take. They were standing so close that holding Yusuke’s hand almost felt…. intimate in a way. “The body remembers even if the mind does not. Think of it as riding a bike— you’ll remember it once you do it. That is one of the most beautiful things about the human form,” Yusuke hummed, and Goro was stuck on every single word, “Muscle memory…”

And then there were soft lips on his own, a gentle hand at his waist, and he was sighing into a kiss that he  _ did  _ remember how to do.  _ Muscle memory.  _ He held Yusuke almost desperately by the lapels of his shirt, pulling him closer, tilting his head, their kiss morphing from chaste to passionate in a matter of moments. Was Goro desperate? Maybe— but he really couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“Would you still like some tea?” Yusuke breathed as they separated for a brief moment. Goro coudlny help but smile as he caught his breath. 

“I would  _ like  _ to keep kissing you,” he murmured, placing a hand on Yusuke’s chest and smiling, genuinely. “And we can see where that takes us…”

A smile bloomed on Yusuke’s lips, handsome and sweet and  _ god,  _ the things Goro would do for that smile,  _ to  _ that smile. “I would like nothing more.”

Suffice to say, Goro received a series of text messages from Ann once the sun dipped below the horizon, wondering if he’d fallen into a hole and died or if he was coming to pick up his daughter. 

“I suppose that means it’s time for you to head home, hm?” came Yusuke’s raspy, sleepy voice from beside him. He could hear the rustle of bedsheets and the popping of joints as Yusuke stretched.

“While I  _ am  _ perfectly content to doze, I do need to put dinner on the stove soon,” he began apologetically.  _ Where the hell was his shirt?  _ “I would invite you over, but I doubt you’d like cheap ramen night.”

Yusuke chuckled, a kind twinkle in his eye. “While I am fond of cheap ramen, I will let you two have an evening to yourselves.” The other man stood, padding over to the foot of the bed and retrieving Goro’s rumpled articles of clothing from the floor. Goro certainly didn’t expect to undress  _ twice  _ in one day, but both instances were enjoyable in the end. Goro smiled gratefully as Yusuke handed them over, dressing himself and attempting to brush out any wrinkles as best as he could. 

“Do I look presentable?” Goro asked, holding out his arms and turning for Yusuke. The other man, pulling on his own clothes, laughed softly and nodded.

“I believe so. Then again, I may not be the best judge. I always think you look presentable.”

Goro softened at that, going uncharacteristically sheepish as he gathered up the last of his things. “Thank you, Yusuke. Thank you for a wonderful day. I’d like to do this again sometime. Our usual time next week?”

“Of course,” Yusuke replied, padding over to Goro in socked feet to pull him into a kiss that made his head spin. Yusuke’s smile was soft and sweet when he pulled away, making those butterflies in Goro’s stomach return in full force. “Let me know once you and Kimiko are home safely.”

“Of course.” Goro slung his bag over his shoulder, bid his goodbyes to Yusuke, and slid into his car outside the man’s (very beautiful yet modest) home. He stared at the steering wheel as he reflected on his afternoon, on the endearing date, the  _ modeling _ session, the kiss, the intimacy, and the only words that came to Goro’s mind were—

“ _ Holy shit.” _

If Goro celebrated with a few fist pumps and the music cranked up to the max, who was going to blame him? Goro Akechi’s  _ still  _ got it.

————

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! If you liked this fic so far, kudos and comments make my whole day  
> Also pls check out Latte’s art here on Twitter!! https://twitter.com/latteatnight/status/1353398800094818304?s=21  
> Their art is beautiful and this fic wouldn’t be the same without it ;w;


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